Three little words
by Madame Apathy
Summary: An assortment of one-shots with various pairings , not all of which are romantic or happy endings . If anyone has a request , let me know .I tend not to do slash unless the characters involved are stated or hinted to be bi/gay.
1. Told You So

**Hiya ! This is just a few little one-shots I've put together from sheer boredom and to prevent myself from going mental over exams . If anyone has a specific pairing they'd like , please let me know .**

**Hopefully they're ok . Reviews are appreciated (hint hint). **

**First pairing is Bif / Pinky , since i haven't seen anything about these two . **

**Disclaimer : I own nothing . **

**Told You So **

Why were almost all the men she knew idiots ? First it was Derby not giving an ounce of effort to their engagement when she gave her all . Then there was Chad allowing himself to be pulled in by Lola , the resident bike . Gord was just ... Gord . Now Bif Taylor felt the need to start trouble .

"What did I tell you not to do , Bif ? " the prep girl sighed , pressing the damp silk cloth to his bloodied eye .  
"Piss off the greaseballs . " The red headed boy mumbled like a little boy being told off .  
"And what did you do ? "  
"Piss off the greaseballs . "  
_"God , this boy is so unbearably stupid . "_ she thought , cursing the world that Nurse McRae had retired , leaving her to deal with the greaseball's handiwork . Really , nursing ! She scoffed mentlly . "This isn't what princesses should be degraded to !"

It was interesting how Pinky suddenly became very anti-violence when she had to clean up the mess left behind .  
"I hate to say "I told you so" , but you wouldn't listen ." she mourned , dipping the silk back into the warm water before dabbing his eye gently . His face crumpled into a wince .  
"Don't be a baby . If you don't like the aftermath , you should control your temper ."

She was going to have to get used to it though - Pinky didn't trust Edna not to spit in their food , let alone be hygenic where cuts and bruises were concerned . And since Gord could barely tell his ears from his elbow , the "woman's work" fell onto the clique women , which was brilliant if you were a nerd and tragic if you were a greaser . Still , at least it gave her space for a little fun , albeit slightly cruel .  
"You know , Bif , " she said , pulling a worried expression ." I think this might scar . " . The "scar" line had turned into a little game she played ; she knew Gord and Derby in particular were terrified of their perfect faces being ruined by the greasers . Normally the screams lasted up to 15 seconds . Sometimes Tad cried .  
"So?" he shrugged . She nearly dropped the wet silk . Was she hearing right ? Honestly , it was bad enough she had to do work for nothing ! Now she couldn't even get a laugh out of it !  
"Pardon?"  
"It's just a scar ." he breezed .  
"You'll end up looking like Gary Smith ." . That did it . His face dropped . "It'd serve you right for starting trouble ."  
"But I was right , Pinky ! Romani is gay ! Haven't you seen him hanging about Vincent like a bad smell ?"  
"Yes , Bif ... because fixing cars all day is way more metrosexual that eating croissants every morning whilst discussing in detail your new Aquaberry vest ."  
"I thought you liked our little conversations ! "  
"Of course I do , you silly man . Sorry , Bif - do you forgive me ? " she pleaded jokingly , clasping her hands tgether in mock prayer .  
"Maybe ... maybe not . Maybe I'm well and truly offended that you could doubt the sexuality of a boxing champion . " he stated , crossing his arms .  
"I don't , Bif ." she soothed , smiling at the realisation that when she thought about it , the concept of putting expensive gloves on and dancing about a ring with another man while wearing shorts and little else was a little bit effeminate . No wonder Mandy asked her if her friends were gay .

Personally , she didn't care much about the whole thing with the greasers . Lola was a tramp for ensnaring Chad , Gord and Tad along with a few others , which disgusted Pinky . Honestly , in the twelve years she had been promised to Derby (a fact she hated with a vengeance for the duration of the engagement) she had never once been near another man except Hopkins , although he couldn't hold that against her - she'd dumped him at that point via a letter to her father listing the reasons , including a few rumours involving barnyard animals and various household objects . According to Lindsey , her stepmother , her father had fainted . Her fiance seemed much less hurt , despite the colourful stories she'd wrote , stories Galloway would have given her an A for .

In fact , Derby seemed truly glad when he got the letter from his father about how his behavior was disgraceful and he would have to find another cousin . His delight evaporated when he remembered that his other cousin , Poinsettia , was heavier than Eunice with a mouth like a sewer . He was outside her dorm with chocolates and flowers the very next day .

Pinky had congratulated herself when he left with his presents . Honestly , flowers ? He spends all that time treating her like Lola (although in truth , Lola was called Johnny's "queen" for a reason) and the best he thought of was flowers ? What was the best he expected ? She was quite temptedto slam the window shut on his hand .

He was the only male cousin , which liberated the prep girl from tradition ; she was free to be with whoever she wanted now . It felt a bit like being in a cafe when she wasn't hungry - she didn't really want anything , but it was nice to have the choice there . Not much choice ; the greasers were an obvious "no" , she wouldn't be seen dead with a nerd (although they were very "real" . After all , no one would fake that .) and jocks bored her a bit . She didn't want anything Lola's dirty paws had touched in case she caught something . The final point wittled the choice down to about four men and one lesbian .

Bif was still sulking .  
"I'm not gay , you know ."  
"I know ."  
"I'm not ! "  
"Bif , I don't think you're gay ." . He stuck out his bottom lip in a pout which didn't really help his case . She dropped the cloth in the water .  
"I've said sorry . I'll kiss you if it makes you feel better ." she teased . He perked up at this .  
"Really ? " he asked , grinning hopefully . Pinky's eyebrows shot to her hairline .

He was good-looking enough , she supposed ; his eyes were a wonderful jade colour and boxing did wonders for his appearence . He always spoke respectfully to her , thankfully never with that awful english accent of Derby's that existed - in her mind - merely for the purpose of irritating her . He had a good family . He wasn't a greaser . He hadn't been with Lola . He wasn't Derby . Why not ?  
"Um ... OK " she laughed nervously , before ever so gently pressing her lips againstly his . A wonderfully warm feeling spread through her body as she did so . After five seconds , she pulled away , leaving a dazed Bif as she grabbed the plaster .  
"Your hair should cover the cut . " she smiled , smoothing the plaster onto his forehead .  
"Thanks . Pinky ? " he ventured , looking slightly more worried than he did before a match began . "Yes ?"  
"You don't fancy going to the cinema ... with me by any chance , do you ?" . He looked more nervous than she'd ever seen him . She'd known him when Eunice took to following him , so that was saying something .  
"That sounds lovely . Don't forget that nice girls like nice flowers . Is seven tomorrow good for you ?"  
"Yes ! Seven's brilliant . I guess I'll see you then . Do you mind if I ... ? " he gestured sweetly . She giggled quietly .  
"That's fine ." she agreed , pecking him on the cheek swiftly before he left the room with a slightly intoxicated expression on his face .

As he practically waltzed into the reception area , Gord stood up.  
"Did you ask her ? " he enquired , bringing his cup of coffee to his mouth . Dumbstruck , the red-haired boy nodded .  
"And what did she say ?"  
"She said yes ! Isn't that smashing ? "  
"Told you so ."


	2. Mom wouldn't approve

Hiya ! Someone asked me to write about Angie and Jimmy , so here goes . Hopefully interesting and in character . If anyone has a request , don't be shy about letting me know .

Disclaimer : I own nothing .

Mom wouldn't approve

The sun smiled down , giving the playground a golden glow and warming her face . The pink flowers bent towards her in the breeze , as though interested in what the shy girl was doing . She adjusted her glasses to get rid of the glaring brightness .

The sketchbook was almost full now ; each dog-eared page contained a poem about a student , along with a drawing sketched from the yearbook or snatching glimpses of her subjects for that split second when they weren't looking . That earned her a few odd looks if she got caught refreshing her memory , but it would be worth it to see her mother's face when her report card had at least two decent grades . Ms Phillips said she showed great promise .

She flipped through , looking at each sketch , each poem she'd lovingly created ; Lola pouting lasciviously , Gloria and Sheldon each tugging Pedro's wrist in the hopes of dislodging his from the dustbin (they were in that pose for a while) , Gary Smith glaring malevolently , Russell pounding his chest like an ape in a zoo and (a picture she was particularly pleased with since she drew it totally from memory) Peanut straddling Gord in the middle of the playground , his fist smahing into the prep's face . She stopped at the final page , smiling at the face staring back at her .

It wasn't quite finished yet , but the face was totally recognisable . The buzz cut had made the her job considerably easier , although the disorganised clothing had encouraged her to simply draw a face , the neck ending where his collar would be . The dark eyes were squinting a bit , the nose a millimetre smaller than in reality , but the lips were immaculately drawn , with genuine affection in every touch of the pencil . That said , she had more experience of the mouth . She could draw that easily .

Despite the quaint quality of the drawing , she liked this picture . It wasn't beautiful , but it was pleasant in its own way . "A bit like him , really " She mused , gnawing away at the end of the pencil , the wood crunching against her teeth .Mom hated it when she did that .

Mother hated a lot of thing . Angie was amazed that her mother didn't hate her sometimes - she was involved in so many things Mom would have a fit at if she knew her "little girl" was involved in (Jimmy was somewhere at the top of that list) , but even when they had the occasional fight at home , Angie's mom would be straight up to her room to hug her "little baby" and say how much she loved her .

Angie wondered how her mother would react if she met Jimmy . Actually she had a few ideas what her mother would say , none of them particularly promising . Perhaps if she kept a few things to herself about Jimmy , he might get a chance . If only there wasn't so much to hide ; expelled , problem family , temper ... the list just went on . Her mother wouldn't approve at all . Angie wouldn't approve if any future child of hers came home with that .

She wondered why she bothered sometimes . Jimmy was notorious for having what her dad would call a "roving eye" , which wouldn't be so bad if the body didn't insist on following it . When he kissed Mandy that time , he might as well have ripped her heart to sad little ribbons . He'd tamed a bit by that standard recently . Still , what kind of man did that ? Not a real one . She could never understand why she let him treat her like that ; she couldn't understand wy she loved him so much that she though she might break down from the effort .

A sweet kiss on her cheek yanked her back to reality .  
"What you doing , baby ?" the stocky boy asked her , presenting a small bunch of pink flowers like the ones grew by the dorms .  
"Um ... Nothing much " she giggled anxiously , closing the book before he saw what she'd wrote about him next to the drawing .  
"Suit yourself . You look great today by the way . These are for you ." he grinning , his air of confidence flawless as always as he placed the blossoms in her palm , kissing her agan with a dear , cheeky grin .

Now she remembered . 


	3. Not her day

**Hi again ! Someone requested that Russell got a bit of attention , so here goes . If anyone has any requests , then I'd love to hear them .**

**Thanks for reading .**

**Disclaimer : I own nothing .**

**Not her day .**

Today was just not Zoe Taylor's day .

Firstly she couldn't find her favourite gloves , then Mrs Peabody ripped her a new one about how her clothes were a bad influence on the first years (which she said as though she thought that tartan skirts and ripped tights would transform the butter-wouldn't-melt kids into teen mums !)and then to top it all off , she saw Jimmy , her so-called "boyfriend" with his tongue half way down some trollop of a trust-fund brat's throat . Honestly , how badly did her life suck if she couldn't even compete with other men ?

What really made her angry beyond compare was that he'd helped her , so she couldn't even really hate him like she had the other guys who had dared to mess with her . Even if he was a loosed-mouthed manwhore who'd hump anything with a pulse , he'd still got her back to the school that - however much of a hell-hole it was - would give her a future better than hanging outside her house every damn day .

The school , along with its other charming qualities , was a dump in Zoe's mind ; half of the teachers had been in Happy Volts , half of them should have be in Happy Volts , most of the students were fake except the nerds , who she didn't fit in with and didn't want to - she'd seen how their leader leered at girls as they went past .

It sounded like someone was sticking up for something by the broken bus , judging from the people congregating around the place , occasionally giving money to two of the little first-years who had set up a betting table inside the bus , a little boy of about twelve screaming "Place your bets ! 3 to 1 !"

"What now ?" she sighed as shouts and chants met her ears . Nudging her with through the crowd with her boots , accidentally-on-purpose kicking Pinky since Princess Brat had refused to move . Eventually , she poked her way to the front .

Two boys were yelling , shoving , and generally getting in each other's faces . One of the boys was wearing Aquaberry , punching with a grace that suggsted proffessional training which most people couldn't afford . On the other hand , his opponent punched madly , not caring if he hurt his opponent with feral moves you only learnt if your friends were a bit on the rough side - the type of moves you usually only learn about after you bloody well need them , judging from the scar running along his cheek . Varying cries hit the air ; cheers of "Parker" , "Lefty" and "Stop being idiots !" .

Suddenly , just as the waves of battle cries became deafening , the prep boy stumbled back , his arm flying back onto the townie's temple and knocking Zoe backwords , a very unladylike word escaping her mouth . Fortunately , someone considerably larger than her broke the fall , resulting in her simply hitting skin instead of hard concret . As she spun around to apologise , her jaw dropped . A few people gaped in horror , with Christy quickly spreading the knowledge of Zoe's fall about in case (God forbidding) anyone didn't see the hit .

The boy - if he was human and not actually a bald ape - towered over her by at least two feet , if not more . The blank face twisted into anger , the huge , powerful arms moving towards her . Bollocks .

She braced herself for the hit , guessing that he steel-toed books wouldn't stand much chance against him if her entire body didn't even knock him back . Suddenly , a huge fist flew forward ... right past the girl onto the prep's collar . Walking forward , he lifted the other boy three feet from the ground . "You say sorry or Russell smash you !" the giant bellowed , shaking both boys as he did so . Instantly , thirty five apologies spouted from each boy's mouth . Satisfied , he lowered the greaser , who began slicking his hair back in a failed attempt to retain dignity . Russell then held the prep boy out so that he was facing Zoe .  
"You knock pretty lady . Say "Sorry" or Russell hurt you ." the giant roared .  
"Sorry ! Sorry ! Sorry !" screamed the boy in a horrendous posh accent . Russell then released the boy - not having the courtesy to lower him to the floor this time - which resulted in a thud and a few contemptuous laughs from the prep's "friends" .Throwing a deadly glare at each other , the two contenders scurried off to continue their fight elsewhere . Sensing this , the sanity-devoid crowd disintigrated , leaving only the huge boy and Zoe .

Now that he wasn't madly angry , Zoe wasn't nearly as worried about him . In fact , he looked almost normal ; his face was quite well proportioned , and his hair was quite a nice colour . He looked considerably older than seventeen , which would explain how he managed to get the tattoo . Alternatively , he may have just picked the shopkeeper up - his arms looked easily capable of it . He'd seemed nice enough (if not a few cigarettes shot of a packet) when she'd met him outside of school .  
"Thanks ." Zoe muttered . "You seemed pretty pissed with those two ."  
"Russell ... likes to hurt people ... for peace ." the giant stated , a smile on his face . Weirdly , that seemed quite similar to her belief of giving people what's coming to them , ignoring the grammar . Before either of them could say anything else , the barbaric chants of "Fight ! " drifted over to them . She grinned at her boots , planning to put them to good use .  
"Want to help me give whoevers causing trouble over there what they've got coming to them ?" Zoe offered , extending her hand to the huge boy . Once the words had seeped into his brain , he grabbed the hand , which looked tiny in comparison to his own .  
"Pretty lady like hurting people ? " Russell wondered , looking down slightly .  
"Sometimes ." she agrred as they began to walk . Listening carefully , she noticed the words "How could you ?" and "Trollop" , suggesting that she wasn't the only one with relaionship troubles . She couldn't helf the small zap of cruel pleasure as Russell lifted the prep boy out of the brawljust as Jimmy was about to throw a final punch , and when Russell (after dropping Gord on the floor from three feet) lumbered over to grab her hand again , the grin doubled .

Maybe this was her day after all .


	4. Sick of Waiting

**Hiya ! I'm still doing requests so if anyone has any favourite pairing , please let me know . Reviews are very much appreciated .**

**This is sort of Ted / Beatrice although not exactly happy .**

**Disclaimer : I own nothing .**

**Sick of waiting**

I love you , you know .

I can't remember when it happened ; maybe it was the day we met , maybe it was the day I couldn't see you anymore , maybe it was just always there , a string sewn through our souls , knotting us neatly together .

It could have been there the second we met in the playground , do you remember that ? You were crying at something horrid someone had said at school . Your blonde hair fell about your innocent , six-year-old face , your big , blue eyes sparkled with sadness and the hurt overflowed down your little cheeks , so painfully aware of how awkward you were . That moment , I felt an odd duty to you , like you were somehow mine or by hurting you , someone had insulted my property. I hated to see my little angel ( because in my eight-year-old mind , you were just that - mine ) so hurt , so upset , so terribly lonely . Without a second thought , I walked over , took your hand and guided you to the swings .

We went to that playground every day from then on , filling the hours with jokes and conversations about our seperate schools . In the more boring classes of obscure equations , my mind drifted to our special playground and what we would do when we got there . Usually I thought something daft up like pretending to be monkeys or something . Occasionally , I found a quite cool game . One game I suggested was when we used to walk around hand in hand talking like we were together , until we got back to the swings and you'd smile at me , even kiss me on the cheek sometimes . I liked that game .

Things got harder when we got thrown into Bullworth - I had a reputation to uphold , a role to fill . My happiness would have been complete if you were able to be part of that role further than being tripped up in the hallway , an action I hated to do . I'm not sure if you saw it , but I used to smile at you afterwards to tell you how sorry I was , how I still loved you . I never stopped that - loving you , I mean . ian't tell you how it killed me not to go talk to you .

I would have came over to you , I promise I would have , but you were always with those freaks you insisted on hanging out with . Seriously , what did you see in those guys ? They were all freaks in some way ; Algie was just weird , the other fat kid was obsessed with video games , and Earnest was a pervert ! He even leered at you when you weren't looking , smiling to himself with sick satisfaction because he didn't get caught . If you ask me , he didn't deserve your company . Above all , that Bucky kid annoyed me . He wandered after you like a puppy that didn't know when it was going to be fed . You didn't seem to notice , though - you still loved me .

Looking back , I was wrong to make you wait so long . I don't know how you lived through it , because I barely managed it . But it's OK now , baby . I can't imagine how sick of waiting you must be , but it's over now .

You don't need to wait any more .

* * *

I hate you , you know .

I didn't always hate you ; when I first met you , I was actually quite fond of you , when you started saying you loved me , I meant it when I returned those words , and even when you started drifting towards precious sports we still loved each other for a while .

But that changed the second we entered that Godforsaken school - suddenly you had no time for me , suddenly you were ashamed of me . You never faltered in that hatred you had for me , for everything I stood for . After all , how dare I not be arrogant or beautiful or full of myself ? How dare I not be like you ?

Oh , I'm sorry , did that hurt your pride ? You always had that too , didn't you ? The first day we met , you strode over to the six-year-old me in the playground , pointed and said "You're my friend . " as bold as brass . Then , before giving me a chance to react , you grabbed my hand and yanked me over to the swings . Not that I minded - I wasn't exactly Miss Popularity at my school , so it was luck that anyone showed an interest of any sort in me . Besides , you were nice back then .

I seemed almost like a pet to you ; you would walk over and say "Today we're going to play this" and the serious business of play would begin . You created such wondrous games ; "Grottos & Gremlins" could never replace how we would swing about our playground pretending to be monkeys soaring through the trees , circus performers walking along the fence or , as I got older , imitating courting , sometimes even weddings ( a strange game for a boy to pick , but fun all the same ) . I wasn't always sure if it was part of the game when you started telling me that you loved me , but I did love you . Sadly , you seemed to forget about that when we hit secondary school , abandoning me like a dog you didn't want anymore . It was luck that I wasn't the only clever , shy kid in school .

There were others like me , thankfully ; outcasts , decent people , people who had the balls to stand before the world unashamed of the human flaws we possessed . If it wasn't for them , I'd have been totally alone in that awful place , with nothing to think of but you and the disgusting things you let your friends say to me , the things you encouraged your friends to do , the things you yourself said to me , cutting whatever bond tied us together . Why did we have to stop being friends and instead become enemy soldiers on a battlefield , forced to show hate on principal ? Why didn't you talk to me , let me know that you cared or didn't care ? Don't try and tell me the "King of the school" couldn't

By the way , the "freaks" as you so eloquently named us were actually humans . There was never any skeletons in my cupboard , none of the guys were ever horrified by anything I ever said . All right , I admit we weren't perfect ; I was too weak to stand up and tell you exactly what I thought ( although I suppose banning your bunch from the study group was a clue ) , Algie had his medical problems and there's no denying that Earnest was a pervert . That said , even your "friends" had those flaws ; Kirby was too scared of being a bit different he couldn't control his own feelings , I can't count the amount of times that Mandy had "food poisoning" and you ... well , let's just say I wasn't asleep all those times you visited Mandy to "talk" . Regardless of whatever else the nerds were , we weren't liars .

You were , though , weren't you ? You lied about everything ; the bulging muscles were from injections , the "scoring" made a mockery of any feelings you had for Mandy , any feelings you had for me . Call me a hypocrite , but I'd known you eight years before Hopkins cam along , and that was no further than a two second kiss . At least I didn't rub your nose in it with passionate embraces for all the world to see . You aren't even consistent - on the day you left the school , you sneaked into the library and spun me a huge story about loving me , about how you missed me .

Well I'm very sorry , but there's only so long I could wait for you - and trust me , I did plenty of waiting : almost nine years of it . You can't say I didn't try to keep my side of things alive , waiting for you to swallow your bloody pride and remember how you used to care for me . I don't know if you care for anyone anymore . You couldn't possibly care for me any longer , or why would you rip open that old scar by having the absolute tenacity to ask me out as though you expect me to forget the torture you inflicted on me ? Are you just upset because you aren't used to girls doing anything besides falling back with one word so that you can brag to your monkey friends about how you "scored" ?

Well , go ahead - you're quite welcome to go "score" with yourself or any girl that lets you , but I won't be that girl . You had plenty of time to see me , but I haven't got time to waste anymore .

I'm done waiting .


	5. Deirdre's new human

**Hiya ! I thought I'd write about everybody's favourite couple - that's right , Ms Phillips and Galloway ! Not quite sure why I chose to write this , especially when I'm not even much of a cat person .**

**Disclaimer : I own nothing . I just write about these characters . I regret nothing !**

**Deirdre's New Human**

"Deirdre's been a bit down , hasn't she ?" I mewed to my friend . We glanced towards the absent humans desk ; it overflowed with paperwork , random little pots and unfinished sketches of the outside world .  
"You think so ? Maybe she's got a hairball or whatever it is people get ."  
"Nope . Maybe we should get her something . "  
"How about a dead mouse ? She'll love that ! " the blue russian purred triumphantly before going back to the scrunchie one of the little humans had given her .  
"Nah , we got her one last week ."  
"Well ... maybe she's lonely . Did you tell her what that awful fat human did to Malevich ? " the darker cat suggested , gazing down at me from the windowsill .  
"Tried , but you know what humans are like - can't understand a word you're saying ." I replied , resting my head on the floor in deep contemplation . Suddenly , genius struck .  
"Cleo , do you think we should get a new human ? "  
"We can't replace her , Smudge ! Humans aren't just for christmas like a jumper or a puppy . " the older cat scolded , rolling her large yellow eyes at me .  
"I meant "as well as" her , not "instead of" ." I explained , bouncing up to the table to join her friend , but not quite making it . Thankfully , she landed back on her feet as she fell .  
"How have you got any lives left ?"  
"You could have helped me ." the smaller cat responded ruefully .  
"Oh yes , I could have pulled you up with my opposable thumbs . Oh wait ... I don't have opposable thumbs ! "

"Hello my darlings . " a woman's smooth , low voice soothed , her slim fingers tickling Smudge's ear .  
"Good to see you too ! Hey listen , we've been thinking and ... oh , that's good ... No , stay on topic , Smudge ! We want to get you a new hum ... Ah , that's the spot ... Damn it , Smudge concentrate ! ... Do you want a new ... "  
"Aww , have you had a busy day ? Who gave you that , Cleo ? " the woman asked before waltzing over to the cats bowls to check their fullness , oblivious to what the light brown tabby was trying to tell her . The older cat promptly hid its new toy . "Don't go off topic , Deirdre . Do you want a specific human or do you just want to come back with any old thing ? " Cleo demanded , jumping down from the table .  
"Right , now you've got your water and things , I've got to do some marking , or Hattrick will be on me like a rash . I'll leave the door open for you , OK my little beauties ? " she smiled , sitting down to a pile of papers bigger than some students .  
"Well , if you want something done right ... Come on , Smudge " the dark cat ordered pattering out of the room , closely followed as I bounced about closely behind her .

No sooner had they stepped out of the room than they heard shouting . Being inquisitive creatures by nature , the two friends stalked through the halls to the source f the screaming .  
"School rules specifically state no drinking ! Crabblesnitch will be furious ! What kind of monster are you , drinking on campus ? "  
"You think these children's parents don't drink , Hattrick ? "  
"The disgraceful ones might , but you're meant to educate these children ! "  
"Go ahead Hattrick ! You always do what you like anyway ! "  
"I'll be seeing you later ." the fatter man muttered fatally , tripping over Smudge as he swaggered out of the room .  
"Filthy animal ! " he glared , puffing his chest out as he continued down the hallway , leaving the door creaking open . Lighter footsteps approached the door .  
"Hello there . " a male , ragged voice whispered , a weary smile in his tone . The two cats stared up at the gaunt man . He looked a few years older than Deirdre , but I'm led to believe that isn't too important in people . He seemed nice enough as he bent down to examine my necklace (I find the term "collar" demeaning) .

"Oh , you belong to Ms . Phillips ,do you ?"  
_"Hey , she belongs to us !"_  
"Lovely woman , isn't she ? Very pretty . Let's get you back to your mistress , shall we ? She'll be missing you two beauties , won't she ?" he continued , picking me up gently .

A few minute of dizzying height and conversing silently with Cleo on what Deirdre would think of this one , he wandered through the still open door .  
"Excuse me ? " he ventured gently , turning to see Deirdre fiddling with her bob , the pile of paperwork considerably smaller . Upon hearing her name , she stood up , the grin on her face suggesting we had picked well .  
"Hello , Mr . Galloway . These two weren't bothering you , were they ? " she asked , her brown eyes sparkling at the male human .  
_"Bothering him indeed - that's gratitude for you ."_


	6. Not quite perfect

**Hiya . Someone requested a Eunice / Ray pairing , so here goes . Let me know if anyone has any more requests .**

**Disclaimer : I own nothing .**

**Not quite perfect**

They hated her .

She didn't know what made them to hate girls like her - girls who weren't barbies , girls who posed no threat to them , girls who were content in the knowledge that features such as flab or spots were just that - features , one ingredient in the finished recipe . Yet still they tormented her mercilessly , like she was sub-human and deserved no better .

As she wiped the tears from her chubby cheeks , she wondered why her weight was so very important . Did they honestly think that she wanted to look the way she did ? That she was proud of it ? Did they genuinely believe that she hadn't tried jogging , swimming , and every fad diet under the sun to lose weight ? Not that they really helped - she'd lose a few pounds then end up celebrating with a bar of chocolate , jogging left her out of breath and there was always some snide remark about whales whenever she went to the pool . There's really no pleasing some people - they made fun of her because she was big , then they made fun of her because she tried to lose weight , which resulted in her seeking the sweet , smooth taste of chocolate to block away the tears , pain and their awful words swirling around her brain . And so the cycle continued .

Dismissing her self pity , Eunice re-opened her book in the hopes of escaping to some other world where she was happy , where she wasn't in a hellhole , where she was free of the chains of expectations . With her eyes on the beautiful words of long-dead writers , she could forget anything bad that had ever happened to her - she could forget her chubbiness , her clumsiness , how even the school bike pushed her away if it didn't suit hiim . Better yet , no one came to the library but the nerds , who couldn't really complain about her appearance and wouldn't anyway - people who have been made fun of never do it .

Mandy in particular was downright cruel to Beatrice and her , despite the fact that Eunice kept to herself and Beatrice was pretty unoffensive , even going to cheerleading try-outs in a weak attempt to appease her - not that the school queen ever let her in , of course . There was always some fake reason ; a nonexistant trip here , an imperfect movement there , or simply a bad jump that Christy or Pinky would get away with . As for Eunce , she went once in first year . She'd ben cheering for maybe forty seconds before Mandy snickered that the uniforms weren't big enough for her , causing her to walk out of the gym , leaving her dignity on the bench . She didn't go again . School politics were blatantly apparent on the subject of appearance - if you weren't gorgeous , you weren't a person .

It would have been tolerable if she had actually done something to the other students , but her only crime was to be fat for lack of a better word . Why was that so horrible ? Remarkably , she had read that in some places , fat was attractive , that women actually fed their daughters up to aid them in getting a husband . That gave her some tiny glimmer of hope for the future .

Not that she'd ever get a husband , of course . Who wanted her ? She pictured herself ; her vast stomach and clumsy manner stole any attention from any positivity . As far as boys cared , she was essentially a carnival freak under the guise of a student . Another fat tear rolled down her face onto the precious paper .

"Excuse me ?" a kind , soft voice asked , about as expected as the bolt of lightning on a sunny day . She looked up to see a boy about her age and remarkably , about her size . Stranger still , he was holding out a chocolate bar .  
"You look upset . What happened ? " he asked , holding out the chocolate bar to the large girl .  
"It's nothing , really . Someone was horrid about my weight . " se explained , smiling gratefully as she took the chocolate bar . Jimmy Hopkins sometimes gave her chocolates if he wanted something from her .  
"Idiots , aren't they ? " he smiled , sitting down next to her .  
"They've got a point , really . I could do with losing weight . " she commenting , hanging her head . "But why is it their concern ? Big deal , so I'm not quite as perfect as they are . That doesn't make me less of a person , does it ? " she choked . She could feel the tears flowing into her eyes , threatening to flood over . The boy raised his eyebrows before taking her hand .  
"There's no such thing as perfect . There's just what people think is perfect . None of the "perfect" girls are so great - in fact , some of them are downright miserable ."

Contemplating what the boy had said to her , she realised that none of the pretty girls were happy ; Pinky was getting married off , Mandy kept making herself sick and Christy was constantly talking about suicide . Realising that "perfect" was as much a part of her imagination as unicorns or daydreams , a smile broke out on the girl's face . She looked at the boy next to her ; the kind eyes and soft , sandy hair seemed to overcome the chubbiness . Plus he had been kind to her , actually recognising her as a human . So what if neither of them were quite perfect ?

"Thanks . I'm Eunice by the way . " she grinned , squeezing the boys hand . To her surprise and delight , he didn't pull away .  
"Ray . " he replied , his large brown eyes sparkling like stars in the night sky .


	7. Don't screw up

**someone asked for a Neil / Johnny father figure type story , so here goes . Hopefully it should be OK .**

**Disclaimer : I own nothing . I regret nothing .**

**Don't screw up**

If you were to go into the Auto-shop on any night , you would find a similar scene to the one described here . Smooth music always flowed through the room as easily as lood through vein or oil through an engine . The sharp , strange scent of oil always hung in the air . You would always discover two males about fifteen years apart in age , yet with the same style and mannerisms , happily toiling over a car of some sort .

This night was like any other . That same wondrous rock flew through the room , mingling with the smell of fuel . The same two people stood playing with the vehicle's mechanics .

"Careful not to screw up , Johnny . " a man of about early thirties , his face smeared with dirt and oil . "I won't , Neil . " the young boy responded , fiddling with some crucial , miniscule piece of the car . The two grinned with similar smiles , identical knowledge running through their minds .

The man shared plenty with this boy ; background , hatred for fascists , not to mention strong features or dark brown hair . In fact , looking at the two together - each with a wrench in their hand and a look of childish wonder as they revived the car to its former glory with the skill and certainty of a surgeon perfoming a delicate operation - you could have easily mistaken them for father and son , perhaps even brothers if you wanted to push things .

You wouldn't have been far wrong if you assumed that they were close ; it was Neil who taught Johnny the beauty of an engine more complex than the human body , Neil the young man went to when Peanut or Norton ran out of patience for Johnny's rambling , obsessive fidelity or Lola's lack of the aforementioned quality (he got the same answer from all three : "dump the slut and pull yourself together ! ") , Neil whose former status Johnny had assumed . Similarly , it was Johnny who agreed to stay behind to fix Hattrick's car (although he was normally the one who wrecked it in the first place) , Johnny who helped the first years (most of whom couldn't tell the difference between an engine and an elbow) and Johnny who had set the shop teacher up on a blind date with Miss Peters , using the logic that they both hated fascists ( this was a bit like receiving the hideous , hand-made that your grandmother insists on knitting you every Christmas - while useless , it was a sweet thought) .

It seemed a bit of a contradiction for Johnny to help Neil with his love life considering the boy's own woman troubles . He'd known Lola's "type" when he was at school , and he knew all too well what happened to them - pregnant the second they left school , on the streets or missing . He couldn't count the amount of times Peanut had shoved him on the bench , pushed a yearbook into his hands and told him "in case you haven't noticed , not all the girls here are tramps . Do yourself a favour and talk to one of them . Larry seemed like the kind of boy he'd want his own son to knock about with , should he ever have any ; smart , honest and not frightened to tell someone when they were screwing up . Regrettably , he saw enough of himself in Johnny to predict correctly that he'd put the book aside and run to his "queen" the second his friend's back turned .

That said , it wasn't like he really knew much else - it was common knowledge that both of Johnny's parents were incarcerated throughout his life , the most recent reason being - in Johnny's word - that "Dad started knocking about with some american mafia and when Mum found out , she knocked him around " . There wasn't much you could teach your kid from a prison cell , so as far as Neil was concerned it was a bloody miracle Johnny had turned out decent . Admittedly , he had his faults , but what kid didn't ?

Regardless , the daily ritual between the two young men occurred yet again - the car roared back to life , its laughter filling the Auto-shop . Understanding that his work was done , the boy greaser wandered over to the door , grabbing his jacket somewhere along the way . As always , Neil would offer Johnny the same advice greasers had given each other from the beginning of their era .  
"Kid ? "  
"Yeah ? " . For a moment , Neil wondered if he was staring at his reflection and would leave the doors to enter a world where leather jacket , bikes and hair gel was the norm . Grinning , he gave the boy three words that most young greasers hear at some point .

"Don't screw up . "


	8. Really rather normal

**Hiya! I'm sorry that this took a while, but I've been busy getting ready for prom so I haven't had much time to write. Thanks to anyone reading this and if you have any requests, then don't be shy about letting me know .**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Really Rather Normal**

I'm really rather normal when I think about things.

I mean I kind of have the same problems as any other fifteen year old girl; I get no privacy, and the boy I like gives me no attention, but I suppose there is a teeny difference between normal girls.

You see, there are two pretty big reasons that I have no privacy ; my job and my sister. Sadly, our parents are someplace that isn't Bullworth, so my siter is my only and me do everything together- work, go out (if we're allowed), talk about boys. We even wear the same clothes, although that can't really be helped. Despite being identical twins, we aren't much like each other; while my hair is neat, hers tumbles all over the place in brown curls; I smile at the audience while she scowls; while I do my best to ignore the cruel taunts, Jezebel is... vulnerable, I guess would be the most delicate way to put it. As a result, she tends to use stuff she maybe shouldn't use to take the edge off a bit, to numb herself from the awful things people say about us. Can you really blame her for self-medicating considering our job? I can't, but I suppose I'm biased, since me and my sister are joined at the hip.

No, I'm not joking. We're conjoined twins, and we work at the freak show. To be honest, it's not too different to being a model or a dancer - we basically get paid to stand and be looked at, so at least its easy money. It's a bit harsh on Jezebel, mind you- how would you like some ignorant old man with his face against the glass muttering about what a freak you are? People like that are on the wrong side of the glass, if you ask me.

That said, not everyone is like that; one of the rich girls loves to ask me about my life, the people with the green jumpers smile at us, and there is a very cute boy who comes along every now and then.

Moving onto the "boy" problem, he's called Jimmy. He's not particularly gorgeous; his ginger hair sticks up like the bristles in a hairbrush, freckles dot his face, and his eyes squit angrily. However, he has good points too; he has a sturdy build and a clear still, he treats me like a human, saying "hi" when he sees us instead of some horrible comment or question on how we get dressed or other menial part of life. In fact, a few days ago, he took a photo of me! Boys do that sometimes when they like a girl, don't they? A relationship is a bit weird in my state- imagine taking your sister with you to every romantic walk or film- so maybe when we find a doctor willing to seperate us, I can go see him at Bullworth.

Have you heard of Bullworth? It's this boarding school not far from the freak show. It's realIy exclusive, but Alfred says we could probably sue if they turned us down- discrimination or something like that, I think he called it. It might be a bit awkward for students to be sat with us rather than pointing at us, but I'd love to go there one day. I'm sure I'd make friends - after all, from what I've just told you I'm really rather normal for someone at a freak show.


	9. Stay Gold, Peanut

**Hiya! Someone asked for a Johnny/Peanut friendship, so hopefully this is OK.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Stay gold, Peanut**

The scene had been played over a thousand times before. Oil dotted the floor, the small puddles forming below the cars enough to fill the room with the familiar smell. The swinging light bulb flickered frantically as always. Yet again, poetic tunes slipped out of the radio, barely audible over the deranged shouting.

"That slut!" Johnny bellowed, his fists clenched. He paced up and down through the Auto-shop, his hair a mess from running his fingers through it. "Gord, of all people! A prep again! One that I didn't even know liked women! What's he got that I haven't, eh, Peanut?". Larry knew his part perfectly- on cue he stood up and put a hand on his friend's shoulder, completely ignoring the use of his hated nickname.  
"Nothing." he recited, aching to ask why Lola was so special. Of course, he didn't- Johnny wasn't one for logic or reasons as opposed to any other guy on campus who could explain why he loved his girlfriend; Zoe was a kindred spirit to Jimmy; Beatrice's fragile yet intelligent nature had Bucky fawning over her like a mother over her newborn baby; Derby developed attraction out of necessity in the knowledge that he would marry Pinky whatever he thought of it; Ted didn't, but he wanted a trophy while Mandy craved status. Then there was Johnny, whose reason was... who knows?

Then came the next line of the all-too-familiar sentence.  
"I'm gonna kill him!" Johnny muttered darkly, his temper distorting his face. Here it comes...  
"I mean it!" he shouted, mistaking Larry's "Not this again." expression for doubt. If the second-in-command was honest, he understood that Johnny wasn't one for making empty threats- doubting him was like doubting the air you breathed. Besides, there was proof- when Tad got his greasy mitts on the trollop Johnny had came pretty close to murder, but someone up there liked the brat, judging from how the ambulance just happened to be passing by.

Lola was right when she called herself Helen of Troy, the face that launched a thousand lovesick idiots into killing each other for no good reason. Most of the clique brawls were down to her inability to keep her legs shut, a fact that left the greasers less than affectionate towards her. Once or twice, Norton had even called her a tramp to her overly powdered face, something for which Larry would have congratulated him.

It wasn't just the greasers who gave her a wide berth where they could help it. she was less than popular with the girls; Mandy despised her, Pinky tried to scratch er to death on sight, Zoe was pretty indifferent to "academy brats", Beatrice had been pretty tolerant until the greaser girl got her claws into Algie(a few of the greasers were still laughing about that), the cheerleaders were irritated by her and Lola considered herself too good for Eunice's company.

"Johnny... have you considered having a break from her?" he asked, knowing the answer before it even entered his friend's mnd.  
"No! I just... I just...". The words withered away to silence. Peanut knew Johnny well enough to know he was like an alcoholic who refused to be sober- however many times Peanut reasoned with him, shouted at him, or even tried to literally knock sense into him, he always went back to that venomous bitch.

Eventually, the pinful silence was shattered.  
"I gotta go. Stay gold, Peanut." his broken friend mumbled before he departed, his mind probably full with Lola's face, Lola's body, Lola's voice, or just Lola in general.

Larry's mind turned to Johnny's words - "stay gold". If nothing else, greasers did their best to stay gold, to stay pure, stay free, stay happy. Johnny hadn't been "gold" since Lola sashayed into his life in first year. Looking back, maybe he should have seen something, perhaps he would have realised that girls could be dangerous. Then again, it wouldn't have mattered with Lola's knack for wrapping men around a manicured finger- within a week of their introduction, Johnny was devoted to her in a way that married couples would envy

But he wasn't Johnny. He was smarter, younger, knew better. He would learn from the fallen king's mistakes. He wouldn't fall for some slut who would break him down. Maybe later, he would find someone kind, thoughtful, understanding, and able to love him and him alone. Maybe he would find his own queen.

But until then, he would stay gold.


	10. Dirty Little Secret

**Hiya! Someone asked me whether or not I write slash, so I'd just like to clear that up now- I don't write slash unless the characters involved are hinted or stated to be gay or bisexual because otherwise I'm changing a basic part of the character and I am not nearly experienced enough as a writer to get away with that without writing the story as OOC or unbelievable.**

**Someone requested a Gord/Vance pairing, so I'm going to give this a good whack and hope it works out OK. This is prettymuch a first attempt at slash, so please don't hate me for this if it isn't good.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of this.**

**Dirty Little Secret**

This was my dirty little secret.

The snow veiled the ground I crept across towards to my bike. The moon allowed me some silver light for me to see what I was doing in the darkness, though thankfully not enough for any prefects to discover me. I shuddered at the thought of being caught- to leave the greaser waiting would be bad enough when there was so little opportunity to snatch time for our dates, but being beaten would be even worse. Add to that having to explain to my friends where I was going in the middle of the night without a word, and mud would really hit the fan.

No one was to know my love of the greaser. No one would understand how delicious each private rendevous was, the shot of adrenaline pumping through my veins at the fear of being caught in a compromising position, or how the very thought of a private date left me mad with excitement.

Jumping onto the Aquaberry cruiser, I wondered if I maybe should have worn something else to the secret meeting. After all, it was a widely known fact that Aquaberry clothes had the same effect on a greaser as waving a red rag in front of a mad bull- either one was an accident waiting to happen. A leather jacket was out of the question, of course, since explaining that to Derby was one conversation I wished to avoid at all costs. That said, what attire is appropriate for a forbidden meeting with someone you really shouldn't be talking to, let alone anything else?

The paupers were fascinating, mind you. Despite being considered inferior by most of my social circle, the clique did possess a certain charm which I knew all too well of from my brief time under Lola's spell. The attraction was infection; I don't really need to explain Lola, Johnny Vincent had a small unofficial fan club dedicated to him which included some of the best-looking girls at the school, and then of course there was Vance, but again that seemed fairly obvious.

Silently ordering the traffic lights to hurry up, my thoughts turned to my last relationship with a greaser. Oh, that had been good fun... until of course, Johnny Vincent tried to beat me to death for messing with "his queen". It mystified me that he never seemed to realise that however many punches he threw, Lola would still be Lola, and Lola would always be a trollop who ate men for breakfast, but then again, why did I care? I was safe on that count now.

Eventually, I screeched to a halt by the Tenements. Pulling a comb through his chesnut hair a final time, the greaser dropped his cigarette to the frozen floor before walking towards me. He took one final drag on his cigarette, the smoke moving through the air in fluid movement.

"You took ya frickin' time." the greaser commented, stepping forward from the wall. I took a deep breath of the icy air, the fact that the greaser had shown up doing wonders for my confidence.  
"Don't you know I'm worth the wait, Vance?"


	11. Smash 'Em All!

**Hiya! Someone asked me to write about Brandy in a separate group of one-shots called "Ice Queens", but it didn't fit very well, so I've re-directed it here. This is a very slight Jimmy/Brandy friendship, so hopefully it will be all right. If it isn't, let me know so that I can alter it.**

**Disclaimer:Not my shop class, I just like to reassemble the bits.**

**Smash 'em all!**

Brandy had had enough.

She could deal with the horrible, smirking looks in the street as though passers-by were dying to comment on the tiny woman walking about. She could tolerate the sordid emails from balding, fat, forty year old men weighing down her inbox. She could even(just about) come to terms with the fact that Zeke and Lightning insisting on fighting to the death just to marry the The Fat, Ugly, Bearded Woman while she was unable to even scavenge for the loser's affections.

But what she hated above all else were the satirical statues scattered around Bullworth by some insensitive jerks. The stupid, stereotypical things were everywhere; the gardens of the upper class, the grounds of Happy Volts- although personally, she didn't see how a foot tall ceramic man grinning manically would help the mental patients- and even there, in the freak show. Her home.

Without hesitating, the little woman grabbed the nearest blunt object she could find- a baseball bat someone had left lying around- before advancing towards the stone caricature in front of her.

_Why would people want this in their garden!_

The hideous bit of painted rock gazed jovially at the woman with painted, soulless eyes. Mocking her. Clutching the bat, she swung her short arms forward, the weapon smashing into the pottery. As the broken pieces fell to the floor, Brandy continued hitting, the final string of tolerance severed. "Offensive, degrading, patronising, stereotyping crap!" Brandy shouted. "Die!"  
"Hey, lady. Are you ok?"

The boy behind her was stocky, bald and- although this was an odd thing for Brandy to notice- shorter than most fifteen year old boys. Perhaps being named "The midget woman" was giving her a napolean complex. Still, at least the boy wasn't smirking. In fact, there was no hint of cruelty in his face. Toughness, mischeif, probably serious psychological issues(it was Bullworth) and a penchant for mindless vandalism judging from the times she seen the teenager at the fair, shooting targets with an almost manic expression.

"No, I'm not ok! Look at this!" she replied, pointing at the shattered remains of the offending object. The boy glanced at the demolished ornament before stating what Brandy considered a major understatement.  
"It's just a garden gnome."  
"No it's not! It's an insult, it's a joke, it's demeaning. I mean, I'll happily have jerks laugh at me or have grown men ask me to do bizarre things to them, but I will not have this! This is so degrading." The last word became a whimper, accompanied by small, warm tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Is there something I can do to help?" the boy offered, bending down to her level as though he was trying to comfort a crying child. Brandy fixed her brown eyes on his, her request frozen hard in her mind.  
"Smash them! Smash 'em all! Old Bullworth Vale's full of them. Please, I'll even pay make it stop hurting." the small woman pleaded. Nodding in agreement, the boy stood up before vanishing from sight.

Once the boy had left, she realised they hadn't negotiated a price. Wasn't that the only reason kids like that did errands? As this thought seeped into her brain, another idea

Maybe the Bullworth inhabitants did have a shred of decency between them.

**Thanks for reading. Feedback appreciated.**


	12. Behind The Curtain

**Hello. I'm so sorry I took a while to update this, but I had a semi-writers block. I'm just writing the request in the order of when I get a decent idea for them. This is mild Petey/Angie. I couldn't see either plucking up the courage for a date, so hopefully this is OK. Concrit is very much appreciated. Flamers are welcome and indeed encouraged- if I need kicking, I need kicking.**

**Disclaimer: Not my photography class, I just like to airbrush.**

**Behind The Curtain**

The paint glided along the canvas with the gentle guidance of a soft brush, going exactly where Petey wanted it to. With each touch of colour that graced the page, Peter "Petey" Kowalski slipped further into his own world, blissfully oblivious to anything else going on around him; the spitballs hitting Earnest's back, Dan's delighted expression, the girl beside him...  
"What are you painting?"

The teenager blinked, replaying the girl's words in his head. She couldn't possibly be speaking to him... could she? No, no way. It was Jimmy who everyone leaned towards like pretty flowers shoved their faces into the sun, not him. The spotlight didn't suit Petey's frightened, awkward manner, so instead he stayed in the shadows, ready to pull strings and operate lights from behind the curtain. In the great pantomime of life, he was scarcely given a speaking part past a few mumbled lines before stronger, better looking, more popular young men began their dramatic monologues. He turned his head towards the girl, who he recognised as Angie Ng, the only person anywhere close to his level of awkwardness. The quiet student shrank from her questioning look, momentarilyforgetting how to speak.  
"It's...It's..." he began, searching for words. _Come on, Pete! You know how to talk. Listen, answer, listen, answer- it's not hard!_ In the time Petey had taken to give the mental pep talk, Angie tilted her head, brown eyes drinking in the details of the picture; the white froth floating on the sapphire water as it crashed against jagged rocks, the sun blazing through the delicate grey clouds, the white seagull's outstretched wings drawn which such care that she felt it might fly of the canvas and through the window.  
"It's nice," Angie commented after almost a minute of observation, smiling softly at the teenage artist.  
"Thanks," he half mumbled, a warmth spreading through his chest as he returned the smile. Maybe he wasn't totally useless with girls, or at least not all of them.

He lifted his paintbrush up, expecting to be ignored for the rest of the lesson. Instead, a few more pleasant words left Angie's lips.  
"So... what artists do you like?" Petey looked around the room. Ms Phillips had recently redecorated with Picasso's bizarre creations, O'Keefe's abstract flowers and Toulouse-Lautrec's portraits.  
"Van Gogh," he replied absent-mindedly, deciding that most people would have heard of him. Wait... was that too girly? A man who drew night skies and sunflowers wasn't exactly manly, even if the canvases were breathtaking. Great, now she'd think he was a dork, just like almost everyone else. Even now the pink shirts were gone- he'd burned them- the "Femme-boy" nickname he'd been branded with was stuck, present with each intake of breath, oozing from each pore like some weird illness. He waited for what seemed like forever for her response after the girl considered his answer briefly.  
"Really? Starry Night is so beautiful." she commented, brown eyes sparkling with friendly interest.

The smaller-than-average boy gazed at the girl next to him, tracing each detail of her with his eyes. Perhaps she wasn't perfectly formed like Mandy or graceful like Pinky, but she possessed a sweet, girlish charm and an underated, unassuming sort of pretty that wasn't seen unless someone searched for it- well, he thought so, anyway.  
"Yeah... Whatt are you painting, then?" he asked, leaning to see her canvas, a bright scene with various woodland creatures.

The conversation continued through the remainder of the lesson with the occasional pause of awkwardness or returning to work. He learned that she liked bunnies and giggled a lot, in exchange telling her about computer games and other random points of interest. All too soon, the bell rang, forcing each to cut the conversation short and dawdle out of the classroom, shooting each other a friendly wave before disappearing into the crowd. He'd talk to her more often, he decided. Perhaps they'd be friends- maybe more than friends, if he was very lucky. Was it possible that maybe the spotlight would eventually fall on them, or that he'd get a tiny taste of the affection thrown at Jimmy as though he was some fantastic celebrity as opposed to helping paint the backdrop or write the script?

He'd heard there was a good film on soon, so perhaps so. But for now, he'd just concentrate on talking to her.


	13. A simple solution

**Sorry that I took so long with this. I've had a lot going on with college. To fully get class out of my system, here's a BeatriceXBucky one-shot as requested by roxel-. The requests aren't wrote in any order, if anyone's wondering. I simply write in the order I get the ideas for them. If anyone wants a specific type of one-shot style(AU/gothic/fantasy/humour/etc) for me to try along with the pairing or in general, then please let me know as I'm trying to test myself a bit.**

**Disclaimer: The algebra is not mine. I am not Rockstar, and the only profit I get from writing this are reviews and a warm and fuzzy feeling which I hope you will get too.**

A simple solution

Beatrice had been wrong to ignore logic for Jimmy.

This had been obvious from the start. What a fool she'd been! To follow him around like some lost, lonely electron circling an atom's nucleus. The bad boy's cheating was obvious, as clear and blantant as potassium exploding in water. Stupid, stupid girl. Perhaps if she hadn't been so busy scolding herself, interrogating her brain with pointless questions, she might have caught the paper someone had thrown at her...

The note seemed to flutter towards Beatrice as it shot through the air like a meteorite, landing on her desk with a quiet rustling. Her ears pricked like a fox's as she held up the paper swan to eye level. The delicate, near perfect sculpture would only have been more impressive had she not noticed the origami book on the library table. What had sparked his interest in origami, she wondered? Then again, it was typical of Bucky- "take Beatrice's mind off that cheat, Hopkins". At this point, she remembered what a swan was considered- a symbol of grace and fidelity. Oh well, the thought that counted. From the corner of her vision, she noticed him watching her expectantly like a puppy waiting to be fed. What did he want her to do? Examine it? Open it? Careful not to rip the paper, she quickly deconstructed the swan, mouthing the numbers to herself:

_9x/-7i3(3x-7u)_

The problem looked easy enough... Poor Bucky. Even among the nerds, the untouchables of the Bullworth hierarchy, he wasn't one of the elite, but the lowest among the low, perching on the edge of the outer sanctum, the scrawniest dog in the pound. While this position had some advantages- the jocks seemed to feel he(almost) wasn't worth beating- Beatrice couldn't help but think her friend deserved better, despite Earnest's initial reluctance to initiate him. What did Earnest know, anyway? Any boy who couldn't even ignore the raging voices from below instead of the whispering words of conscience and reason was in no place to question her judgement. How he had ended up leader was a mystery- Melvin was a clear candidate, as was Thad(anyone who dared to punch Russell was all right by the nerds). Even Bucky, while not bright or intellectual, or even very good at Grottos and Gremlins, would have made a better leader, and he wasn't even very intelligent!

Well... maybe that was too harsh, Beatrice considered, scolding herself. How could she think such a thing of someone who'd been so good to her? Intellect couldn't always be measured by tests or beakers. What Bucky possessed that set him apart was a sweetness, a goodness that existed without cause or reason- and that, she decided, was far better than brains. Of all the things that Bullworth had taught her, Beatrice knew that most humans were not good by default. They could be programmed to behave, yes, but even those who were too innocent to know better were born bad. Why else did children hit each other, or lie, or pull the wings from flies for no reason? Few people were born good, and she had met nearly none of that sort, which made Bucky a diamond, a pearl in a sealed clam. Bucky gave her tissues when she lost control of her tear buds. Bucky listened to her problems until his cochleas hurt. Bucky made everything better. She took 9x from both sides of the equation.

_-7i/ -21u_

It surprised her that Bucky would struggle with maths. Solving problems had always been his strong point; game strategies, advice, inventing pranks, none of these had ever been a problem for him, yet maths and english were harder for him than climbing Everest. Ironically, she was top of the class and couldn't solve even a simple dilemma like Hopkins' use of her for his own advantage. Bucky had warned her against that, too, not that she'd listened. As it often did, the though that Bucky was too good for her diffused into Beatrice's brain. Dividing both by seven, she wondered why Bucky had thrown the note over in the first place. After all, he had never been anything but honest with her. At worst, he spoke in the french they'd learned from his grandmother before her head went to Alzhimer's.

Why couldn't Jimmy be more like Bucky? she wondered, glancing at the demolished swan absent-mindedly. Her pen clattered to the floor as she stared at the page, her braces visible as she sat open mouthed the answer:

_i/3u_

Wow. That was... well, that was that. There was a very simple solution to this, she realised. Bucky was her friend, her closest companion, the wearer of the jumper she sobbed into, the arms that comforted her. had the decision been easier, the red note added to the formula would have written itself. Practically bouncing towards her friend, she held the note up, not wanting to let go of it. The moment she did, a smile flew onto Bucky's face like a bird from a cage. So the day hadn't been a waste, after all.

The next day was spring cleaning in the girls' dorms, during which many old bit and pieces were tossed away like leftover chicken and ketchup. But she kept that piece of paper. In fact, even fifteen years on, the intelligent couple still dusted off the yearbook from time to time, flicking to the very last page to look at a tatty piece of paper with a simple algebraic formula in black ink apart from at the very end- etched in artery red ink at the bottom was a tiny, silly, wonderful addition to the final solution: u2.


	14. Brilliant New Plan

Hello everyone.

I'm sorry I haven't updated these for a while, but seeing as I have no classes at the moment I need something to do, so if anyone wants any pairings they'd like to see then by all means let me know.

Anyway, this pairing was requested by roxel so if you're still following this or still interested, here you go. The pairing is Gary/Zoe, so I'm going to hope that all goes well. Quick word of warning, there is some sexual implications in the dialogue though not any actual sex or sex acts.

* * *

Brilliant New Plan

The pebble clacked against the broken window pane and tumbled with a _plot_ sound onto the creaking, wooden patio. Clack! The next stone sent a crack along the grimy glass, and with it a smirk crackled on Gary's lips: the joys of senseless destruction.

Regrettably, it was the only sort of pleasure Gary had left after that idiot, Jimmy, had wrecked everything. Granted, he'd been allowed a little fun in Happy Volts – setting off the fire alarm, the security alarm, and the guy who thought he was Princess Diana – but not much fun. Really, he hadn't been there long enough to do anything spectacular. You see, 'Smith' is a very popular name, one that popped up quite a lot in Bullworth. Take Betty Smith, the hairdresser, for example. Candy Smith, a magazine model. Then there was the ridiculously successful Mr Smith of Bullworth Vale, the one who himself got kicked out of Bullworth Academy as a boy, the one with the idiot son.

Don't you just _love_ rich grandpas?

Getting out of Happy Volts had its advantages, of course. There weren't quite as many idiots outside, for one. More freedom, of course. No more medication. He was free again, he reasoned, watching another stone fly out of his hand and sail through the air into the window. Crrraack! Free to be bored and irritable and -

"Knock it off, dumbass! That window is – Gary?"

Gary looked up in time to see the girl tilt her head, her slim lips stretched to non-existence. Her hands rested on her bare hips. Her eyes narrowed. They were the same shade of brown as his. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Sauntering forward, Gary put on his Cheshire Cat smile for her. Ah Zoe. Seeing her sent him back to the time she got expelled. He hadn't been involved – that was one achievement he couldn't boast – but everyone had heard the shouting in Crabblesnitch's office. She cried. That was when he realised just how much power there was in Bullworth. Power that he could have had.

"Aww, so you're the sweet little buttercup Jimmy's cuddling up to," he drawled, his gaze hovering over her. Slim, pink lips. Dyed hair, short skirt, long, lean legs, big ugly attitude. Red, red cherries dangling on her hip. "You look like his type."

"What do you want?"

"Why do I have to _want_ something? You should do something about that PMS, you know. It's not attractive," he advised.

"Trying to get a reaction? Shut up and get off my property."

"Well aren't you sweet? I can see why he likes you, girly. _So_ demure, _so_ charming. You mom must be proud."

"I said, _Shut up_," she ordered, her glaring face feral. So much for not reacting, Gary smirked. He could _see_ the rage rising up her like the 'Test your strength' bar at the carnival.

"Well _that's_ not ladylike, is it? Lighten up, woman. You sound like you need yoga or whale music or a quick tumble with Jimmykins."

"And _you_ sound like you want me to kick you ass," she snapped. "Why are you even here? If you're looking for Jimmy then you're not exactly good at stalking."

Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy. Why did everything have to relate back to that idiot? Admittedly that was why he was hassling her, but that wasn't the point.

"For your information, Zoe, I came to observe the wildlife," he replied simply, smiling as innocently as it was possible for him to do.

"What wildlife?" she demanded, glaring at him. Such a temper on her. Was that what Jimmy liked about her? Of course. The red hair, the scum-punk clothes, the attitude problem. Jimmy was dating himself with a vagina. It made perfect sense as he watched the realisation trickle into her dumb, dyed head. She was dumber than she looked, wasn't she?

"Oh, screw off. You're really asking for it, you know that?"

"How frightening," he snarked, lifting his hands up in a mock-defensive pose. "No, please don't hurt me!" he squeaked, pretending to shake. "I might _cry_ if you hit me. I'm _so scared_ of Jimmy's whores." Laughing, he watched her trying to keep the cork on her rage before it frothed up. This was the first real fun he'd had since… He wasn't going to think about it. What he would think about was his _new_ plan, and how badly that idiot would be humiliated if Gary could get Zoe on _his_ side.

"I can't be bothered with you. Just leave my windows alone."

"Well that's just great. I come here trying to do you a favour and that's what – "

"How is smashing my house up a favour, you freak?"

"Well if you listen to me."

Zoe's hissed in a breath and folded her arms, glaring at him.

"You have ten seconds and then I'm going back inside," she told him, her face blazing with hatred, redder than her hair, redder than the flames on her skirt, redder than those red, red cherries. She was angry and annoyed and ready to punch him.

Perfect.

Smiling, Gary paced around her like an eagle.

"I've been hearing some horrible things," he announced, a gleeful glint in his eye. The thing with a bad temper is that it's reliable. It shoots through the synapses and heats the head up until they're ready to shoot. When that happened Gary tended to make sure the anger ricocheted onto someone else. And that was where Jimmy came in. "Things about Jimmy with Christy and _Mandy_ and that weird chick, Eunice. I even heard about him with Trent and Kirby. And then there's that thing with the barnyard animals… Trust me, friend, you don't want to hear about that." Waiting for the fuse to blow, he chuckled at her staring face. It was so perfectly simple. Once he got her all worked up about Jimmy they'd have common ground. That would give him an ally, and a good one at that.

Jimmy would see his girlfriend on the arm of his worst enemy, kissing his enemy, touching her. Good

Everyone else would see it, leaving Jimmy looking like an even bigger fool than he was. Better.

With Zoe on his side, Gary could get back in with the townies if he sweet-talked her into sweet-talking them. Best.

That would give him a little headway in Bullworth Town. They could find out what the greasers were up to and Gary could call the cops, which would make him look good again. Then they'd let him into police cadets. In the mean time dear, rich ol' Grampa would buy the preps' respect – after all, there was no way his deadbeat father would be allowed to inherit if there was a male grandson the money could skip to – before he went off to police academy, which he would apply for once he'd stirred up a sufficient amount of trouble between the two groups. He'd train and practice, but he'd keep friendly with them all until he could come back from police academy and arrest the trailer trash with "confessions" he recorded at friendly get-togethers – or just by posting "anonymous witness statements".

The preps would be grateful to have the townies gone after what they did to those nice, shiny trophies. Grateful enough to ensure an eventual promotion to chief of police. Maybe even grateful enough to offer some monetary thanks; otherwise he could blackmail them for it. All that money would be very useful in an election campaign, and since publicity is everything he'd almost definitely end up winning the election for Mayor of Bullworth.

In hindsight, taking the school was unambitious when the whole town was up for grabs. This new plan was perfect, brilliant! Even if it did hinge on this stupid townie girl and her broken heart. Smirking, he waited for her to explode like a grape in a microwave.

Three, two, one...

"Is that it?"

What? What did she mean, _Is that it?!_ Where were the tears? The screaming? She didn't even look _shocked_.

"Well I can give you a list if you like," he persisted, searching for any hint of agitation. Come on, she had to be a _little_ bit pissed about her man-whore. "Vance Medici, Pinky Gauthier. It must be so hard for you…" Perhaps he could turn the dial up. "He doesn't even have someone specific. Just anyone apart from you. Doesn't that _hurt_ you, Zoe, sweetie? I bet it does, and it's such a shame… because really," he commented with a deliberate glance at her bare hip, "you are exactly his type."

The look she gave him could crush a cola can. Progress! Perfect. Once he got her really outraged about Jimmy he could get her on his side. She would be the first domino. Once he had Zoe the rest would fall into place.

And she had to go and ruin it.

"Everyone's Jimmy's type," she said caustically, punctuating her sentence with an "Urgh. I can't believe I put my book down for this."

"You can read?"

"Don't," she told him, spinning to stomp back inside. "Don't start. I can't be bothered with your bullshit. Just lay off the windows and go find someone else to annoy."

Her footsteps as she stomped up the steps to the front door felt as though she was stamping on his head. Why was the stupid idiot doing this? She wasn't supposed to react this way. This wasn't the plan. This _wasn't_ _the_ _plan_.

"Fine," Gary yelled after her with a manic laugh. "Ha! I always listen to orders from white trash."

"You suck," she muttered, yanking the door open.

"Aww, that _hurt_! Oh well, I don't care. From what everyone says about Mr Burton and you, I hear you suck, too."

Her hand fell from the doorknob to her side as she started to shake. Instinctively he hands clenched into fists. Her knuckles were white, her whole body trembled with rage and the next thing Gary felt was a loud thud and a sharp pain on the back of his head, the sun partly blocked out by Zoe's head as she straddled him and swung her fist across his face.

"You're dead!" she shrieked, clapping her hands over his ears and yanking his head up an inch away from her face. Her breath was hot on his cheek. "Take it back."

"Take what back?"

"You know what. Take it back or – " His fist shot out and grabbed a lock of red hair, yanking her down beside him so that he could jump up and kick her in the gut. Clenching her body up like a fist she gave a delicious yelp that sent warm pride into Gary's chest.

"Not really that tough, are you?" he stooped as if talking to a small child. "This is why you should _control your temper._"

"Pulling hair?" she groaned, pulling herself up. "Really? You little snake."

"I won the fight, didn't I? Who cares how I did it?" he gloated just as her steel-toed boot shot out and smacked against his shin. "Ow!" Instinctively he shut his eyes and grabbed his leg – big mistake. A second later her long, lean leg lashed out again and hit him in the chest, knocking him over like a domino. As she shoved him into the gravel by his shoulders her knee found its way between his and jerked up; he yelped an octave higher than before. "You can't do that!"

"Like you can't pull hair?" she asked, her fingernails slicing the back of his neck. He barely felt it; her face was manic, flaring nostrils, bright, feral eyes, hot, panting breath from a raw-red mouth with sharp white teeth. She reminded him of Chad's dog, of his mother, of fire and rage and the cherry-red tablets they made him take. Later, he told himself that if he'd stopped staring at her he would have won.

"This isn't fair!"

"So fair bothers you now?" she asked, slamming him against the earth as she shoved herself up. The sun above them cast a shadow over Gary where the townie girl stood, lighting the sweat glistening on her bare arms, her shoulders, the juicy red cherry on her hip. "So," she demanded, her eyes glinting like her black boots. "Are you going to go or am I going to have to break something?"

"Okay, okay," he groaned, pulled himself up. "You seriously need some clozapine, you know that?"

"What the hell is that?"

"Are you sure you want to know? I might need to use some big words."

"On second thoughts, forget it," she muttered. "I'd rather not hear you talking any longer than I have to. Just go wreck someone else's house."

"Aww, but where's the fun in that?"

He was answered only by the creaking of the door as Zoe shut it behind her. So much for knocking over a domino. Maybe he'd just have to keep trying. He'd get her on his side soon enough – once he stopped aching at least.

* * *

For anyone who's wondering, there really is a Mr Smith in Bullworth and he is how I described him. While admittedly there's not necessarily a canon link I reasoned there was enough fitting information to use it as grounding for Gary living basically consequence-free.

On another note, the clozapine Gary mentions in an anti-psychotic.

Thank you for reading.


End file.
